


When Titanic Sunk

by herbailiwick



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Depression, Episode: s07e23 Survival of the Fittest, Gen, Guilt, Suicidal Thoughts, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 17:29:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbailiwick/pseuds/herbailiwick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Sam has never been so alone in his entire life. <span>The fact that Dean is gone is just the tip of the iceberg.</span></em>
</p><p>Takes place after "Survival of the Fittest".</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Titanic Sunk

Sam has never been so alone in his entire life. The fact that Dean is gone is just the tip of the iceberg.

Sam wasn't this _scared_ the last time he was apart from Dean. He'd chosen to stay away, then. And he'd had Grandpa Samuel, who was a douchey but ultimately ready-to-give-orders and plan-having and knowledge-keeping kind of guy.

And the time before that that he hadn't had Dean, as well as The Time That Didn't Happen, he'd had one thing on his mind: revenge. There'd been little room for fear. The first time, he'd been willing to kill Bobby on the suspicion it wasn't Bobby. The second time, he'd found Ruby, who had, in the fucked-up, demon-laced, Sam-is-a-sucker way of his life, actually been pretty kind to him. You catch more flies with honey, after all.

Cas is gone again, too. It's Sam's fault again. Sam should have been there with them. They could all be dead together. He survived again. He survives too much. He's tired of surviving everything, of waking up in the panic room like he's got a fresh start. For what, a fresh start to lose more people?

No one's really safe around Sam. He's suspected it since he found out about Mom dying in his nursery and he's known it since Jess's death confirmed it. But at least he had Dean's goodness to battle his curse. And then, he'd had an actual angel around when he'd tainted himself badly enough that even Dean had a hard time stomaching him. Things had been okay.

At least with Lucifer around, he'd had company. It's so sick and twisted to even think that, but Sam understands so much about people's sick and twisted sides, can relate to people that way, can relate to himself that way, knows himself for his sickness, knows now that he wouldn't be Sam without it.

Cas took Lucifer and broke. And now he can't even try to fix Cas. What had merely put Sam on the benches due to lack of rest had changed Cas, and Sam's so sorry. It was his stupid plan that got them into the mess in the first place, the whole Cage or Bust plan that was never supposed to mean he got out. But Cas let him out. Cas couldn't have known about the soul thing; Sam gets that now.

Maybe if Sam had tried harder to find his body again when Cas was letting it out. Maybe...maybe he could have saved all the people he hurt or slayed as the soulless version of himself. Yes, it was good to clean up his mess, to shove Lucifer back in the box, but Sam hadn't realized he'd have to come back to the surface and play nice again so soon. He hadn't been strong enough to do it well. Even Dean had screwed up in Hell, had come back after breaking a seal with nightmares and knowledge of torture and an even lower opinion of himself.

Actually, Sam has Hell nightmares again. Even with Lucifer out of his head, even without the more crippling flashbacks, Cas couldn't prevent Sam's subconscious from turning toward dark and evil things, though he'd sure tried. So Sam wakes up screaming, and there's no one there, not Dean, not even poor Cas. Cas has entered his dreams before, soothed him. Everyone's always taking care of Sam, and they just die in return. It's not fair.

It's the first period of Sam's life where no hunters approach him. No one even _wants_ him. There's no Dean, no Cas, no Grandpa Samuel, no Campbell cousins that he knows of, and Sam can actually list hunters he'd played a hand in killing when he'd been possessed by Meg.

God, he doesn't even know what happened to _Meg_.

And he tried to look for Kevin, honestly. Somewhere between driving around aimlessly hoping to bump into someone on a hunt who might acknowledge him and contemplating actually summoning Crowley to get things over with faster, Sam tried his best to look for Kevin despite gnawing guilt and no leads except Crowley. But summoning Crowley was stupidity, and Sam couldn't afford stupidity when Dean was out of the picture; he just couldn't. Experience told him that.

Sam even thinks about Missouri. He thinks about the kindness in her eyes, the soft, high voice of hers that knew so much, and he finds himself ashamed for even remembering her. Dean had told him, way back when they'd left her at their old house, that he didn't want to keep in touch with her, and Sam had always respected that, despite wondering what it might be like if things didn't have to be that way.

She'd probably offer him a hug and, honestly, Sam is _not_ one for hugs from practical strangers, but he's starting to think they're better than no hugs ever for the rest of his life. And, despite everything, he's _young_. He's really young. That's a lot of hugless years.

He's afraid not just of what Dean might think, or of what she might think after they'd said they wouldn't be strangers, but of the fact he doesn't have his powers. Or, if he does, he knows where they come from now, and she probably would too. Or maybe she'd find him to be...an abomination. She'd understand that she never should have said those kind words of concern about Jess.

If a hunter came up to him and asked him to hunt, one who he hadn't scared away with the demon powers, with the demon blood, with the raising of Lucifer, with the trapping of Lucifer, with the soulless crusade, with the hallucinations, if a hunter came up to him and asked him, could he even do it, between memories of Dean and memories of Bobby? Other people know Bobby; it's true. They might understand on some level, but...there were sides to Bobby only Sam had ever seen, not even Dean. 

What's the point of hunting without Dean or Bobby?

And Sam doesn't want to go back to school. He's never told Dean that in so many words. He's a hunter in ways he never was at 18, at 19, at 20, at 21, at 22, even before college. His Latin, his skill in research, his memory all used to be used for studying law. He can't go back, he really can't. All he hears when he thinks about his LSAT score is Jess's congratulations. Dorm rooms make him think of her coffee cups and Brady's leftover pizza and the drugs he wasn't good enough to get Brady to give up.

School makes him think of the straight A's he worked so hard for and never did anything with. After everything, now that Dean is gone, he's not sure he deserves normal, again.

But now he's sort of aware that normal is a thing that just happens. It hasn't happened to him yet, though. Probably it won't ever happen. He's always been grumpy, moody, pouty, all of the above. Everyone always said it.

He starts sleeping more than he ever has in his life. The nightmares aren't nearly as awful as waking up to no offer of comfort from them, to no angry, concerned Dean.

Sam's not sure why he hated being around John so much. Maybe he and John could have stayed hunters, maybe his dad's knowledge and odd ability to charm those he wasn't required to give a damn about could have won people over, and maybe Sam could've met someone, a nice girl, a hunter who understood, and they would've settled down and fought about the weapons and the salt, and she'd say she didn't get why he butted heads with his dad so much, and they'd have a dog, a nice guard dog like Bobby'd had once.

There's no Roadhouse, thanks to Sam. There's no Ellen or Jo or Ash, thanks to Sam. There's no Bobby, no Dean, no Cas, no Gordon, no Azazel's kids, no Trickster, no Ruby, no Lilith, no Meg, no Kevin.

All Sam has is the Impala. He's somewhere in Texas wondering how easy it'd be to veer into a lake or blow the car up with him still inside when he hears a thud because he's just hit a dog.


End file.
